The Little One with Green Eyes

Prologue: The Mad Lord and Baby Inferius

-June 2 1980-

Walden Macnair prided himself on his ability to stomach what others could not. It was an important skill set to have when it came to his job. Both his legal and... less legal one. After all, it was quite difficult to maintain a position that required you to kill a man and be unable to hold your lunch.

Yes, Walden Macnair had a knack for desensitizing himself to the suffering of others around him. It was quite the talent, if he dared say so himself. He could not think of another who could do what he did.

And yet...

And yet... Walden looked out amongst the sea of his friends and fellow Death Eaters, each one staring with trepidation at the scene before them. Their Lord---their powerful, magnificent Lord---sat in a heavy stone throne throwing a powerful cruciatus at the idiot recruit that failed his mission.

Now, Walden found that he wasn't upset in the slightest at torture. If anything, he found it quite empowering to be at the top of a fallen and broken man. Yet, in this very moment, watching the recruit writhe on the floor in utter agony, Walden felt nothing but disgust.

It had started slowly.

So slowly, in fact, that they didn't realize it until it was too late.

Their Lord, the Lord that they pledged their life, loyalty and progeny to, was losing more of his sanity with every passing day. At first Walden thought nothing of the extra torture and raids. He didn't mind leaving more often to take out his frustration on the deserving Mudbloods who dared steal their magic.

But soon their Lord strayed from their ideals. Soon he grew more and more reckless. Walden respected his Lord, as he should, but he found himself drifting farther from respect and closer towards fear. His Lord had changed from the powerful and seductive man that he had pledged his life to.

Walden would serve him regardless---though, whether he would stay out of respect for the man he once was or fear for his life, he would soon see---and he would do so happily. Walden tuned back into the meeting in front of him, and this time he took notice of his Lord.

Yes, his Lord had definitely changed. Walden could remember when he had pledged himself to his Lord just seven years prior, his Lord's magic was overwhelmingly powerful and demanding. His Lord's magic---while still demanding and overwhelming---seemed almost stunted. His appearance had changed, as well. His Lord was once beautiful, his attractiveness gaining powerful allies. Yet now his Lord's appearance was serpentine in nature. And his eyes... The ruby-red glare sent shivers down Walden's spine.

His Lord had finished torturing the worthless recruit, and had stood, demanding the attention of his loyal followers. The useless man writhed on the floor in the aftershocks of his agony, and Walden sneered. How unbecoming.

His Lord stepped over the urchin like he was not there, and Walden found himself bowing with the other Death Eaters. His Lord commanded authority, and Walden found himself shivering as his Lord's magic swept over him in a tantalizing, seductive show of power.

"My prized followers," his Lord spoke, the beginnings of a hiss lacing his words. "I come before you today with news of the Light's most recent attempt to end our reign."

Jeers sounded among the Death Eaters, and Walden sneered once more as he looked at the idiotic ones who dared to interrupt his Lord. The Dark Lord seemed to agree, as he swept his gaze throughout the crowd and sent a brief cruciatus at them. When silence filled the halls once more, his Lord continued.

"They thought me gullible," his Lord said, his crimson eyes sparkling with rage. "They thought that I, the great Lord Voldemort, would believe a half-baked prophecy from a common street rat?" His Lord laughed, long and cruel.